Hyperventilation aside, I've actually been feeling pretty good since getting home from England. I've returned to my usual work-out schedule, which seems to be paying dividends. I feel that I'm probably in the best physical and mental state I've ev n in, and that's translating into improved self-confidence.

On Saturday night, Stephen (my new club-going buddy) and I went to Sugar at the Stud and had a rioutous evening. The Stud is a tiny little place by the standards of most clubs, with a dance floor maybe 12 feet by 24. On Saturday nights it's filled a mostly younger crowd. What makes it fun is that, much like the place I went to in London, it's diverse both in its music and in the clientele. And, of course, you're all on top of each other bumping and grinding. I found myself getting a little car way. At one point I grabbed this shirtless, muscular Asian boy and just started dancing with him. His short, studly friend joined in, along with Stephen, and we became a kind of human sandwich. The whole time, the analytical part of my mind is still g along saying "woah, Keith, is this really you doing this!"

As soon as we'd entered, earlier in the evening, I'd met the stare of a tall, young guy with flashing eyes. A couple of times during the evening, we'd smiled at each other, but, for some reason, despite the eye contact, he never seemed to want to nto closer contact. Finally, as the night wore on, we "happened" to be dancing near each other, and I reached over to ask him his name. That sort of broke the ice, and soon we were dancing face to face, grinning at each other. He later told he'd not spoken to me because he'd thought Stephen was my boy-friend. He was such a cute young man, with brown puppy-dog eyes and an intoxicating smile. I don't recall ever meeting someone on the dance-floor and feeling so immediately comfortable da with him. I kept staring into his eyes thinking how much I wanted to kiss him. Which I did. Again, I was thinking, is this really me? I wished I could always be this uninhibited.

He'd driven up from Santa Cruz for the evening, which is about an hour and a half away, so I invited him to spend the night with me. Outside of the clamor of the dance club as we walked to my car, I realized what a polite, intelligent guy he was.<

Once back at my place, things took off and we spent what was, for me, one of the best nights of my life. We talked and made out for hours, both before sleeping, and in the morning again, and I cooked breakfast for him before he took off shortly af on, leaving me to think back fondly over the previous twelve hours. There had been a lack of pretense and facade about him which had allowed me to be equally open and responsive. And, like me, he had a full-time job which didn't feed him spiritually ich at least gave him the time and resources to pursue his true artistic passions outside of work.

But. And there had to be a but. Very early on during the night he'd told me about his prior relationship, which had only just recently ended, and that he wasn't looking to get involved with anybody. Perhaps it was that that allowed me to be so ope him. I don't know. I do know that he made me feel like nobody has made me feel in the fourteen years since the similarly magical night I met the one guy I've only ever been in love with, Shawn.

He'd taken one particular direct route to my heart by continually complimenting me, saying how pretty I was, and so on. Normally, although I enjoy being complimented, I don't take it seriously. Or maybe I do bathe in the compliments for a while, u first catch sight of myself in the mirror and I'm instantly brought back to earth. But this time, after he left, I looked at myself in the big mirror in my dining area, and thought to myself, hey, you're not so bad after all.

In the week since then, I've thought about my weekend visitor a lot. It's a shame, for me, that he's not available right now since there's no doubt in my mind I could easily fall for him head-over-heels. Those feelings also made me take a cold, ha k at how I felt about PB, the guy I've been sort of seeing, long-distance, in Southern California. I'd had my doubts about him ever since he returned home after his visit here six weeks ago, and the comparison of my feelings for this recent guy again I felt about PB taught me that I'd been stringing both myself and PB along. So I called him late Wednesday evening and told him that I thought we should break it off. So now I'm officially single again, as has been the case for, oh, the vast majorit he last eight years.